


Glaze

by Find_Me_Calling_You



Series: Glaze [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Actor Timmy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad pastry sex joke, Bisexual Male Character, Chef Armie, Chefs, Coming Out, Coming Untouched, Coming of Age, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi-Lingual Sexual Teasing, Reality TV, Rimming, Spanking, Switching, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Find_Me_Calling_You/pseuds/Find_Me_Calling_You
Summary: Ever since Timmy spotted the up-and-coming Armie Hammer on a rerun of Hell's Kitchen when home sick from school, he's been a little bit in love with the famous chef.
Relationships: Pauline Chalamet/surprise!, Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, brief Timothee Chalamet/Will Maxwell-Lunney, brief mention of past Armie Hammer/Nick Delli Santi, mention of past Armie Hammer/Elizabeth Chambers
Series: Glaze [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720513
Comments: 60
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a meet-cute! A *short* meet cute. What happens? Fifteen pages of backstory and then these idiots have sex.

It’s on a rainy cool day in early March of 8th grade that Timmy catches the flu, annoyed that he had almost made it all the way through the season without getting sick. Pauline laughs at his bad luck but promises to bring him whatever he needs from his locker, and if she’s feeling generous, a bagel from the shop down the street Timmy likes so much. Nicole hums at the thermometer when it shows _102.3_. Timmy is promptly parked on the couch with the remote and gatorade as Nicole makes him swallow down a couple Day-Quil, reminding him to take more in six hours before she leaves for the day.

Timmy dozes for the first part of the day. Makes himself chicken broth, texts his mom to please bring home popsicles if she’s going by the store later. His temperature is down a couple degrees so he takes a shower. He feels better after he’s no longer coated in his own sweat and in clean clothes.

He ends up channel surfing, no particular fondness for any sort of daytime TV and stumbles across _Hell’s Kitchen_ from last season. It appears to be the finale as Chef Ramsay is staring intently as he gives instructions to two chefs. One is a Latina woman he would guess to be in her early thirties, but the other is young, shockingly so. And devastatingly handsome. He’s tall, towering over both Ramsay and his last competitor, with hints of golden, honey brown hair peeking out of his chef’s hat and the brightest blue eyes Timmy has ever seen.

Timmy had wondered for a while now, if his orientation leans slightly towards men, but seeing the beautiful young chef on screen cements it. He’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open and he doesn’t even realize he’s gone to stroking his cock through his pajama pants until his vision blurs and he lets out a moan. Fuck. There went his attempt to get clean.

He knew he needed to get up and clean up as it’s getting uncomfortable where it’s drying against his skin and the flannel of his pants. But he wants to watch the young man on screen, especially as the challenge starts. It turns out the object of his desire is named Armand “please call me Armie” Hammer and is only 22. Hell, he’s a culinary school drop-out. But his confidence and natural talent have apparently gotten him this far. He easily commands the team of his former rivals through dinner prep, deep voice encouraging but firm and very direct. Watching everything that’s done like a hawk, even when he’s working on something himself.

It’s exciting and Timmy’s never been this interested in a reality show before. Armie almost ends up sabotaged by one of his chefs, but the man catches his troublemaker at the last minute. It’s the only time Armie raises his voice but the other chef immediately looks a cross between furious and a little terrified as Armie shouts at him for the inappropriateness of his behavior. It has Timmy hard in his pants again and when Armie leans down into the man’s face, growling at him to get out, Timmy comes again, rubbing himself through it and trying not to look away from the TV.

He throws a potato chip at the TV when the sabotager is interviewed after leaving the kitchen, muttering that Armie has no business in the final being so young and so self-taught.

Timmy thinks those things make Armie all the more admirable.

At the end of the episode, the two chefs are at their doors and Armie is actually shooting his fellow chef, Jennifer, a smile and despite her snort when she sees it, she smiles back. Truly no hard feelings between them.

When Armie’s door opens, despite his fatigue and general aching, Timmy is practically off the couch cheering. Armie’s glowing as he talks about how excited he is to cook for Chef Ramsay and gushes about his fellow chefs, how grateful he is for the opportunity, and how thankful he is that he made it through. The man is just so adorable when he grins. He folds his shoulders a little when he seems to realize how excited he is and seems the tiniest bit bashful, his smile gentle (he has dimples! Timmy practically swoons,) his eyes warm, so much joy in his voice but like he wants it to be less than it is. Timmy wishes he could tell him that he deserves to be leaping up and down, cheering out loud, regardless of his size or anyone’s opinion of it.

When the episode is completely over, Timmy goes to take another shower, and being 13, of course masturbates again to Armie, first just his voice, his smile, his whole demeanor, but when he imagines what Armie might look like naked, he comes immediately.

***

Timmy’s not one for gossip magazines but he keeps a close watch on the internet, in the checkout stand magazines, for anything that might even mention Armie. A couple weeks after school lets out the following year, he’s grabbing an energy drink and some chips from the corner store when his eyes catch on something in the magazine rack. It’s Armie, all beautiful blue eyes, grin with the little dimples, wearing a classic old-Hollywood suit and staring lovingly at a beautiful woman with long dark hair. The woman looks equally happy and is wearing a strapless white dress, her veil cascading down behind her full of subtle sparkles. Timmy tries not to read the headline “ _Former Hell’s Kitchen heartthrob weds longtime girlfriend, journalist Elizabeth Chambers._ ”

He holds it together through buying his snacks, and the rest of the afternoon skating with his friends, but when he gets home, he isn’t hungry. He knows he has no right to be upset--he doesn’t even know Armie--but he cries himself to sleep that night.

***

“Oh little Timmy T,” Pauline sing-songs as she enters the kitchen a few weeks into Timmy’s junior year. Timmy immediately wants to groan. He never should have made that stupid statistics rap, but he also hates the class with a passion, and he’s at a performing arts high school, what should they expect? “Are you still obsessed with your hot chef?”

“Why?” He knows he’s blushing even more now than when she brought up his stupid rap. When he came out last year, he had finally confided in Pauline how he knew for sure and about his pathetic obsession with Armie Hammer (plus it’s no-one’s business if he maybe, might have Tivo-ed his entire season on _Hell’s Kitchen_ to watch over and over. Pauline had been incredibly gentle and accepting when he told her, supportive of her little brother and he’d forever be grateful for that. But like any great big sister, now that he’s more confident in his sexuality, she takes every opportunity to tease him about his “hunky chef.”

_‘He’s my celebrity crush!’_

_‘I get you, but I do have eyes, Timo. Your boy is extremely fine.’_

“Well, he may or may not be opening a new restaurant. Annddddd…” She teases, a rolled up magazine behind her back. Timmy immediately wants to dive for it, but he’s recently grown taller, still slim as ever, and hasn’t quite found what little grace he previously had with these new limbs. Pauline is always graceful, so he knows he’ll end up flat on his face if he tries to grab.

“Whaaat?” He knows he’s whining but he hates when Pauline teases him, especially about Armie.

“TLC might be producing a show to let us see the process.” Pauline’s grin is huge as she pulls the magazine from behind her back. It’s a full multi-page spread on Armie and Tim’s mouth waters at the sight of Armie, even more handsome now as he matures, in sweaters and jeans at home in his own kitchen, smiling and laughing as he shows off those dimples.

Timmy is speechless, but makes grabby hands for the magazine and immediately sets in to reading. This is the longest interview with Armie he’s seen in some time, so he wants to take the time to pour over every word of it, study every picture that shows Armie’s pointy canines, the laugh lines just beginning to form around his eyes.

After two years with The London, which he was forever thankful for, he was partnering with eccentric but brilliant Italian restaurateur Luca Guadagnino. He had “poached” a chef named Stefano from a Trattoria Via Vai near Crema, Italy when he’d gone there for a visit with Luca last year and they were almost ready to open their own restaurant, just a block or two off Broadway.

It’s painfully close, and looking at the prestige Armie and Luca were bringing, likely impossible that Timmy would ever visit, but still, it’s nice to hear of Armie’s success and his being on TV regularly is definitely going to be both torture and heaven for Timmy.

***

Armie has two shows by the end of Timmy’s junior year. The TLC show premiered in November, with the third episode just after Thanksgiving being partially live at the grand opening. Armie is a vision in a slick teal jacket, dark blue pants, and a white shirt with the top button undone. Pauline had laughed her ass off, watching Timmy squirm on the couch, pillow over his lap. 

He desperately wanted to stay through the episode but as the camera inadvertently ended up following Armie’s very well tailored pants and the round, firm ass they covered for a few seconds, Timmy couldn’t help himself. He made a strangled noise and leapt up from the couch and into the tiny hallway bathroom. He bit his lip hard, conscious that Pauline was practically right outside, but the second he got his hand around his cock, he was coming, defiling one the decorative hand towels he had stuffed into his crotch at the last minute. It was better than in his pants or on the wall. When he slunk out of the bathroom a minute later, Pauline raised her eyebrow at the towel he was trying to smuggle to the laundry room.

“Ewww, Timmy, did you just--?”

“Shut uppp!”

***

The second show is actually Timmy’s favorite. It premiers in January on the local PBS affiliate and airs every Monday. It’s filmed at Monroe College in the Bronx, who generously allowed use of their culinary arts facilities. It gives home chefs who never had a chance to actively pursue their dreams a chance to have the experience of preparing a full meal in a professional kitchen. 

Timmy initially is mildly skeptical of having a bunch of middle-aged people who just liked to cook in that setting with Armie, but it reveals a softer, gentler side that Timmy has never seen before. He spends a little time with each of the participants, coaching them through different elements of making their dishes, but also listening and taking in tips from each of them that they had picked up in decades of cooking for their families and friends. Armie gives a sincere and humble thanks to all of them at the end of every episode as they pack up their fare to take home for dinner with their families.

Timmy starts tuning in religiously, often setting it up on his laptop in the kitchen so he can follow along. He’s been doing some cooking for years, but seeing how much Armie loves it, it makes him want to learn more. His parents and Pauline are always happy for him to cook on Mondays, and keep the kitchen stocked with most of what he needs for each episode. They’re filmed a few weeks in advance so Timmy and the rest of their viewers can look up the recipes and what they’re making ahead of time.

***

He graduates and somehow gets into freaking Columbia and is happy to ride the high of excitement and anxiety at the graduation party in the common area at the apartment building. Everyone from the building knows them, and the few people that don’t do know Enid, so it feels like the whole neighborhood might as well be celebrating for him.

When the party's over and Timmy retreats upstairs with his parents, Pauline, and his friend/boyfriend Will, his parents keep sneaking each other smiles and turning away when they catch Timmy watching them. He knows they’re trying to surprise him with something but he can’t figure out what.

It comes out over dinner.

“So, they didn’t have any reservations for this weekend, but as a special treat for how hard you’ve worked to get to this point, Timothée, your mother and I,” Marc speaks in his steady way, “how would you feel about going to _Paradiso_ for dinner Tuesday?”

Timmy’s jaw drops and his stomach twists. They have to be kidding. It’s got to be insanely expensive, not to mention what if Armie wasn’t there? Wouldn’t that be why they were taking him? Or even worse perhaps, Armie was there and Tim would make a complete fool of himself.

“That would be...are you sure?” Nicole lets out a light laugh and reaches over, petting Timmy’s hand and wrist.

“Of course we’re sure. We know how much you love Armie Hammer, and you’ve grown so much as a cook and found a hobby that you love through his shows. Eating there once I think would be a lovely experience.” Timmy blushes and manages a nod.

“If you’re sure. Thank you.” He’ll never be able to fully thank his parents enough for this.

***

After dinner, he and Will are lounging on his bed, still naked to combat the early summer heat that seems to always sneak in despite the AC, and from their fooling around earlier. It had happened somewhat organically this Spring, his best friend just gradually sliding into the role of his boyfriend. They already trusted each other and enjoyed each other’s company so much that it was nothing to kiss, cuddle, and touch in addition to all their usual hanging out.

Will had gone down on him for the first time that night and Timmy had blown his load embarrassingly fast. Will had come on his face, another first, and that happened after just a few minutes of Will’s hand working his cock, Timmy’s on his hips, his ass, encouraging him, murmuring little bits of affection to his friend.

Lounging naked in the afterglow, Will rolls over to face him, a slight frown on his face, brows knit together.

“What’s wrong?” Timmy wants to hide. He’s still slightly self-conscious naked around Will, who’s so much more sculpted, so much more conventionally attractive.

“Nothing with you.” Will reassures, managing a smile and stroking his hand over Timmy’s arm. When Timmy has settled back into relaxation, Will continues. “I guess I just don’t understand your obsession with that Hammer guy.” Timmy blushes dark red.

“I’m allowed to have a crush on a celebrity, Will.” Will waves his hand, mouth twisting.

“I don’t mean it like that. You put up with me wanting to lick every inch of Chris Hemsworth. Twice.” Timmy snorts. “I just mean, I don’t get the appeal. I mean, he’s pretty, and tall guys usually have big dicks, but he’s too perfect. It’s bland, not to mention fake. Plus, I think he’s in the closet and that means he’s spineless.”

Timmy feels offended on Armie’s behalf and rolls himself up in the sheet.

“It’s none of anyone’s business but his what his sexuality is.” He recalls a now removed article from a small magazine in Southern California where Armie had talked about his upbringing, his strictly evangelical Christian parents who disowned him when he wanted to be a chef, only beginning to talk to him again after he won _Hell’s Kitchen_. Timmy can’t imagine coming out with that kind of parents. “And he always looks so genuine when he’s with the folks at Monroe.”

“Oh, is that the little cable show he does? Can’t say I’ve seen it, but he looks like a massive tool on TLC.”

“That’s TLC.” Timmy isn’t the biggest fan of the show. Armie, Luca, and Stefano all seemed to genuinely like, value, and appreciate each other, so why it seemed like the producers were trying to create drama made very little sense.

“I’m sorry, I’ll drop it. I just think he’s meh. But if you really like him, go, have a good time. See if the food is as amazing as it looks on TV.” Will gives him a small smile and Timmy cuddles close as Will drags a light blanket over them and reaches over to turn off the light.

***

Tuesday, Timmy is a fucking disaster. He showered three separate times, took two doses of his anxiety medication, and put on enough deodorant to last a lifetime. He cannot be a sweaty, blushing mess at _Paradiso_. He’ll look like a complete fool before he can even open his mouth and say something dumb.

Will had been reluctant in accepting the invite, but tagged along when it was time.

_Paradiso_ was everything it was on TV and more. It originally wasn’t a restaurant space so Luca and Armie had gotten a good deal and done some of their own remodelling to get exactly what they wanted out of the space. As a result, it had a large, open floor plan with two levels of seating, something that Armie had come up with to get even just a couple extra tables in, but also give the top level, a couple feet off the floor, surrounding the room, the sense that the space was bigger, for people who liked to observe the flow of the restaurant, and the inner, lower level for folks who wanted something a little more cozy.

They’re quickly taken to a table on the upper level, Timmy all too eager to press himself to the railing and examine the restaurant. The planters scattered throughout were obviously real, giving the whole room the lightest fresh scent. It was done in warm but deep colors, the light overhead from a huge, avante garde chandelier, just barely turned on enough to cast the room in a gentle glow. There was a string quartet playing on one side of the lower level, but shockingly nothing that seemed too fancy. Just gentle, not-quite-lively little tunes that Timmy had never heard before. It was perfect.

As their meal passes, Timmy tries not to think about Armie, but there’s little touches of everything he is about throughout the restaurant and its gentle warmth comforts Timmy throughout the meal.

“So, no signs of your loverboy yet.” Will says lightly. Pauline and Timmy end up kicking each other in their attempts to kick Will beneath the table.

“It’s no guarantee we could see him personally.” Timmy reminds him, and perhaps himself a little too. He has no idea what he would say to Armie if he did appear suddenly. He’d probably just make a complete fool of himself.

“At least the manager is gorgeous.” Will mumbles into his food and Pauline actually makes an appreciative hum. 

“That he is.” Pauline murmurs. 

Timmy knows who they’re watching. He’d never caught the man’s name, doesn’t know if they’ve said it on the show, but he’s been in the background several times throughout the TLC series. He has big dark eyes, thick, perfectly styled black hair, and slips gracefully throughout the room in head to toe black, checking on tables here and there, whispering things to passing waiters before seamlessly disappearing into the restaurant’s flow.

“I think he’s a good friend of Armie’s.” Timmy shrugs. The man is attractive but not quite his type. Or maybe just Armie set such a high standard as his teenage crush that he was forever ruined for anyone else.

“Oh.” Pauline says, and Timmy can see the lightbulb go on over her head and immediately wants to stop her.

“No, no, no! Not while we’re eating at least. But really not at all, I don’t want to bother him. Please?” Timmy begs and Pauline rolls her eyes lightly.

“Okay, I won’t say anything now, but if he isn’t busy when we’re leaving, I’m going to go talk to him.” Pauline smirks and Timmy wants to crawl under the table.

The whole meal is delicious, from appetizers and fresh salads, to the main courses. They each end up getting something different so they can share, all passing each other bites of food. Even Will grudgingly admits the food is incredible. Timmy loves everything he tries and he can tell how much passion is put into the food here.

He feels guilty when he sees his father place his credit card into the little folder and hand it back to the waiter. The prices had been very reasonable for the quality and portion size in a restaurant this famous, but they were still higher than Timmy really felt comfortable with his parents spending on him for just a night out.

As they’re preparing to leave, he can see Pauline lean over slightly. The friend of Armie’s that’s been running the room is standing quietly by the bar, just observing instead of making his rounds. Fuck.

Timmy tries to hide from Pauline’s view as they make their way towards the exit, but she catches his wrist, her free hand adjusting her top. Pauline hates the standards placed on women and usually lives in sweatshirts and leggings. But when she does dress up, she highlights her assets and isn’t afraid to use them in her favor. 

It works as they approach the man, his eyes briefly taking in Pauline, lingering for the briefest second on her cleavage before moving up and staying on her face. Timmy isn’t sure where Armie picked up this friend. Possibly he’s another one of the folks that came over from Crema, his features undeniably Italian.

“Good evening. How can I be of assistance?” His English is perfect and unaccented. Pauline flashes him her flirting smile and fucking bats her eyes. Timmy wants to die.

“My baby brother has been a huge fan of Armie’s since he’s been on _Hell’s Kitchen_ and we were just curious if he’s in this evening.” Timmy wants to crawl into a hole in the ground and die. He’s sure he’s blushing terribly and he’s trying desperately not to think about how his hairline suddenly feels sweaty.

“Pauline, I really don’t want to be a bother--” Pauline shushes him and the man’s eyes wander over their little group, not unkind, slightly distant the way someone must be when they’re in a professional role, but also a sort of affectionate amusement. Will in the back, disinterested, Timmy turning the color of a tomato and trying to hide between his big sister who is blatantly flirting.

“I’m sorry, but Armie isn’t in tonight.” Timmy nods quickly, wanting to apologize for bothering him and make a hasty exit. “But, if you’re that big a fan, leave your information, and I’ll see if he can at least send you a little something.”

“That would be so cool! You’re amazing!” Pauline coos to the man and then shoves Timmy forward while the man produces a notepad from behind the bar, a pen from his pocket.

Timmy can’t quite meet the man’s eyes as he takes the pen and paper, trying to calm his trembling hand so his writing isn’t completely terrible.

“So, you’re a fan of cooking or a fan of Armie?” The man’s voice is the gentlest tease, no hint of malice and since Will has wandered away and Pauline is giving them space, Timmy does his best to answer.

“Both, I guess. I mean, it was how beautiful he is that got my attention at first but he was so passionate about what he does. Cooking isn’t quite my thing, I’m pursuing acting and going to Columbia, but I have learned a lot about it from watching the PBS show. Everything was amazing here tonight! I just...Armie made me realize how passionate someone can be about what they do, and I guess it kind of gave me courage to pursue my dream too. If that doesn’t sound stupid.” He finishes writing his name and address, adds the tiny note containing most of what he told Armie’s friend and looks at his feet.

“That’s not stupid at all. He’ll be extremely honored to hear that. You’re not like the usual fans that come after him, and you’ve been so respectful. I’m sorry he wasn’t here tonight. I would have let you meet him, just so you know.” Timmy manages a small smile and nods.

“Thank you so much, uh…”

“Nick. I hate nametags.” Nick chuckles and reaches his hand out, shaking Timmy’s before he takes the paper and pen back. He pulls the sheet with Timmy’s address off the top, folds it and places it in his breast pocket with the pen. “I’ll make sure this gets to him.” Nick pats it lightly and Timmy feels less awful about bothering him, his smile a bit more confident. 

“Thank you again.” Timmy says and Nick’s eyes flick briefly to Pauline. “Sorry about my sister.” Nick chuckles.

“Don’t. She has a lovely bosom but I hope she knows the prettiest thing about her is that determined look in her eyes when she wants something.” Timmy snorts but it gets a genuine smile out of him and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t resemble any variety of red veggies anymore. He and Nick wave their goodbyes and Timmy hurries over to Will and Pauline, stepping outside with them.

“So, what did hottie have to say to you?” Pauline grabs his arm as they begin their walk home.

“He was staring at your tits.” Will pipes up and sniffs with displeasure. Timmy hoped Will would reach out, hold his free hand, but he didn't. Pauline is rolling her eyes with a small giggle.

“I wanted him to look at my boobs, and he only glanced. He was very gentlemanly.” Pauline hummed. Timmy kept his mouth shut for a block or two, riding off the high of getting to talk to one of Armie’s friends. He had been so kind and down-to-earth, it gives him a good feeling about if he ever meets Armie. And he trusts Nick to actually deliver his information and the tiny message he’d managed to write to Armie.

“His name’s Nick.” Pauline perks up and he grins at her. “He says you have a nice rack, technically a _lovely bosom_ , but the best thing about you is your determination.” Pauline practically shrieks.

“How could you not tell me that while we were still there? Ugh, beaver-dammed by my little brother when I’m trying to do something nice for him.”

“Ewww.” Will states, taking a few steps away from them. He’d never understood Pauline and Timmy’s close friendship in addition to being siblings. But Timmy bursts out laughing and rides the excitement of the night all the way home.

***

Timmy nearly has a heart attack when he goes over to his parents’ one weekend and there’s a USPS box on the coffee table with his name written in a strong, looping script on the label.

No way. No fucking way. 

It’s heavier than he expected and he scrambles to rip it open. Timmy tips the contents onto the coffee table in front of him. There’s a card, a copy of Luca and Armie’s cookbook (it isn’t even supposed to be released for two weeks!) and one of the gorgeous dark red bound menus from _Paradiso_. With shaking hands, he lifts the menu, turns it open. It’s one of the real menus from _Paradiso_ but it has little notes throughout, in the same looping script and his heart lurches. Armie put time into this, for him. Just because. There are several dishes starred, that he personally recommends if Timmy ever gets the chance to return.

The menu and the cookbook are both autographed, the cookbook by Luca and Stefano as well. Timmy’s almost afraid to open the card. He feels like he should have opened it first, but there’s no going back.

Timmy climbs the stairs two at a time, ignoring Pauline’s ask of where he was going.

In his bedroom, he gently places the menu and the cookbook in his bedside table. It takes him several deep breaths to be able to open the card.

It’s a cheesy graduation card, decorated with balloons, cake, and puppies and it makes Timmy laugh.

_Dear Timothée (TIM-O-TAY, am I saying that right in my head?)_

_I like silly cards like this, which maybe that’s dumb, but I think it’s fun. I’m too much of a kid at heart sometimes. But you’re probably way more mature than me! Columbia?? Holy shit, you must be brilliant! Congratulations!! I always kind of wanted to pursue acting, but I knew if my parents wouldn’t tolerate me being a chef, they’d probably never speak to me again if I was an actor. Plus I really doubt I’d be any good at it. I always feel like I’m acting on TLC, it’s nice to know that there are people that watch PBS. I’m so much happier working on that one so I’m extra glad you enjoy it. Good luck and thank you for coming by Paradiso on such a special occasion. I’m really sorry I wasn’t there, but I hope I am if you’re ever able to swing by again._

_Lots of love and all the best,_

_Armie_

Timmy will deny it to his dying breath but when he’s done, he rolls onto his belly, muffles his shriek of pure joy in his pillow.

***

There was no return address on the package, so Timmy goes through college, lands several auditions, makes his way as a somewhat successful Broadway actor. He manages to graduate with honors the same week he debuts in a small role in _Book of Mormon_. His family is doubly thrilled for him and celebrate like crazy.

He wants to ask if they can go back to _Paradiso_ , but most people think he’s gotten over “his little crush.” True, it can’t be more than a crush, he doesn’t even know the man. But he looks over the old card and through Armie’s book every night before bed. He still cooks for everyone in the house he shares with his friends. When he’s asked where he learned to cook like this, he just shrugs it off.

He still watches PBS religiously every Monday afternoon.

After graduation, Timmy moves back home to the tiniest little studio apartment not far from where his parents are. Part of him wants to move back in with his parents from a financial standpoint, but getting space for himself is really important.

When Timmy isn’t on stage or at auditions, he gets an awesome job writing for a non-profit that provides arts education to underfunded and under-represented boroughs. He’s met some insanely talented kids, and loves the days he gets to work with them instead of just writing press releases and soliciting donations.

He’s crazy busy, but he loves his life.

Timmy is sleeping in on his one day off a month when his phone starts going insane on the bedside table. Even on the days he’s slept through work with the non-profit, it didn’t go this nuts. It’s a gorgeous spring day and he was planning to go to the park if he got up in time.

Timmy yawns and reaches for the phone, flicking it on, his mouth dropping open when he sees it's all just the social media alerts he set up for Armie. Usually it meant every other day or so, there would be a small article, or an Instagram photo, or Armie would tweet his latest workout playlist. If Timmy’s being very honest, when he puts those playlists on, he’s usually in bed, imagining Armie (who was already freaking beautiful before he had a late 20’s glow up because how is that fair) sweaty, breathing heavy, his muscles straining. Strong arms, thick thighs, that still fucking perfect ass. Sometimes he imagined Armie working out, sometimes he just imagines Armie there with him, naked and sweaty for a whole different reason.

But today, it’s not a playlist, or a behind-the-scenes shot from the restaurant, but dozens upon dozens of alerts from every platform he can imagine, all rushing to put in their two cents on one of the biggest stories of the year.

_Renowned chef Armie Hammer announces divorce, bisexuality: “I’m done hiding.”_

***

Timmy had read Armie and his wife’s joint statement when they divorced. Elizabeth had wanted to focus on her luxury travel business and admitted staying mostly in one place with Armie would be better for their childrens' upbringing. But she promised to visit often, and based on the roughly monthly posts on Armie’s Instagram featuring his ex-wife, that seems to be true. Armie thanked Elizabeth for the nearly ten years of marriage they shared, and made it clear to fans and journalists that she was still the mother of his children and no one better have anything nasty to say.

It seemed like an amicable split, the marriage just something they’d outgrown. Now that Armie’s single, the press has taken to following him around damn near constantly. He quits his TLC show, says he doesn’t like the artificial drama and needs to be able to focus on his family. His playlists get angstier for a while before songs that Timmy recognizes from several clubs around New York start sneaking in. His Instagram and twitter are funnier than ever, but they’re also a little edgier, more outspoken, particularly when it comes to LGBTQ+ rights.

Timmy didn’t think it was possible but Armie has a whole new level of confidence and glow, and he finds himself in love all over with his old crush. Some days, Timmy wonders if he’ll be an old man, dying alone because he always carried a little tiny birthday candle for Armie somewhere deep in his heart.

Over the next several months, there are nearly weekly photos of Armie at different gay nightclubs throughout the city. There thankfully aren’t photos inside the clubs because they’re all places Timmy goes too, and he’d lose his mind imagining Armie shirtless, sweaty, grinding against other men. He may have imagined it more times than convenient or appropriate, but that’s between him and his right hand.

The pictures leaving the club though are almost always with Nick, sometimes with Armie flipping off the camera when he didn’t want to be photographed, other times grinning wide, trying to hide behind a laughing Nick. Rumors swirled constantly that they were a couple, but Armie never commented on it.

Timmy feels betrayed the first time he sees the photos with Nick, before reminding himself that Armie was never his in the first place. Nick’s been one of Armie’s best friends for ages and if Armie now wants to be in a relationship with him, that’s their business.

It still hurts Timmy’s heart a little, especially when Armie posts photos of his kids with Nick, usually all wrapped up cuddling and laughing, or experimenting in the kitchen at Armie’s gorgeous and very spacious looking penthouse across town.

***

“Hey Little Brother, when are you coming to see my new condo?” Pauline’s voice comes through his phone the second he answers, and Timmy laughs lightly.

“When I can walk properly again.” He’s been out of work in theatre for over a month. He’d been auditioning for a minor part in Jersey Boys, stepped wrong, landed wrong after a jump and snapped his ACL at the ankle. It had been a long and tremendously painful emergency surgery. He had just been allowed to walk at the six week point a few days ago. It looked to be healing well, but Timmy was also confined to a walking boot for a bare minimum of at least another six to eight weeks.

“Aww, I’m sorry. Semi-spaced about that. But how are you feeling?” Timmy smiled and settled himself in on his couch. It was just after lunch on Monday and he was more than ready to watch Armie gently coach his home chefs through a comfort food banquet.

“Mostly just sore. And very, very bored. I’m like two weeks ahead of schedule for the non-profit and I’m going a little stir-crazy at home.”

“If you time it right with your pain meds, do you think you could handle being on your feet intermittently for a few hours?” Timmy considered her question, staring down at the ankle boot. It wasn’t uncomfortable to walk short distances but standing in one place was hell on earth and he needed frequent breaks.

“I think I could. But why?” Pauline’s question had sounded too innocent. Timmy knew she was up to something.

“Well, I’m not sure I can really disclose how or when I acquired this opportunity, but you still watch Armie’s show out of Monroe every week, right?”

“Of course.” Armie, even from the other side of a television screen, had built Timmy into a confident cook over the years. He could whip up things in his tiny studio that left the whole office drooling and asking for more.

“Well, I may have gotten you a slot for this Thursday’s filming.” Timmy’s jaw drops. His ears are ringing. His phone slips from his grip to the floor.

Timmy had been hating himself for years now for never getting the courage to make his way back to _Paradiso_ , never trying just one more time to meet Armie, see if he was every bit as fun and sweet as he was when he sent that card years ago. Thank him properly for everything, however indirectly, he’d done for him over the years.

It was one of his great regrets, but at the same time, he’s scared. He knows if he meets Armie now, knowing Armie likes men, and Armie didn’t like _him_ , he’d be crushed. Not that it’s the most rational line of thinking, but he can’t help hoping if they ever do meet, Armie wants him even half as much as he wanted Armie.

“Timmy? Little Brooootheeeeerrr? Timothée!” Pauline’s voice erupts tinny from the phone speakers and he manages to grab it from the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Timmy knows his voice is shaking.

“Is it too much? If you really can’t do it, I don’t want to force you. I’m sorry--”

“No.” He cuts off her apology. “I’ve always wanted another chance to meet him. Here’s my shot, right?”

***

The morning of filming, Timmy throws up his coffee almost immediately after he drinks it. He pops his anxiety medicine, eats a bagel painfully slow, and tries some coconut water after he lets his Zofran dissolve under his tongue.

It all stays down and Timmy takes a long shower. He has to do his hair when he gets out too. He’d gotten it cut Tuesday just because he knew he was coming on the show today. He shaves, tidies his eyebrows just a little, debates shaving his pubic hair but instead decides to just trim. He feels ridiculous for even considering it. What the hell would Armie Hammer ever want with him?

To at least prevent any embarrassing boners while shooting, he jerks off twice in the shower. Once imagining post-workout Armie man-handling him for shower sex, the second time imagining dancing with Armie, pressed against him to the pounding beats echoing through the club, sliding a hand down into his pants, feeling such a big, powerful man bend under his control. When fantasy-Armie comes in his hand, Timmy nearly falls off the shower chair with the force of his orgasm.

All of his grooming done, he puts on a snug pair of blue jeans (snug seems to work better with the boot) and a lightweight black sweater. A Timberland on his non-booted foot, the best equalizer for height so he doesn’t walk quite so terribly. And of course a cozy red fleece because winter isn’t quite ready to let go of the city yet. Everyone is usually dressed somewhat casually, so he supposes this isn’t terrible.

He gets a Lyft to the studio, completely not up for dealing with the subway today. He’s got a small bag with him, Armie’s old cookbook battered from years of use, all the paperwork Pauline had sent him for this whole thing, his sunglasses, a phone charger, and his assorted medications for anxiety and breakthrough pain. Timmy hoped he wouldn’t need to use any of them, but he’d rather be prepared than not. And if that’s how a little tube of lube snuck its way into the bag, he just wasn’t going to think about that.

Monroe College is all beautiful modern brick and big windows. Finding his way to the culinary labs is easy enough. Once inside, he produces the paperwork and his identification to the producers who check him against a list and quickly nod.

“All set Mr. Chalamet. Now, it does say you need an accomodation for your ankle?” Timmy nods carefully.

“It just gets tender if I stand still for too long.”

“Let’s try to get through it, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll find you something to sit on.” Timmy wants to protest, but this is his one and only chance to get this close to a guaranteed experience with Armie, he’s not going to blow it over a sore foot.

The next place he and the other contestants are taken to is makeup. Timmy knows the drill from stage, just a little goes a long way in accentuating features and making your face more camera friendly.

When they’re released into the kitchen, Timmy wanders initially, carefully taking in his surroundings before he finds his workstation. There’s a copy of Armie’s latest book, about the month he spent vacationing in Italy that inspired _Paradiso_ and working with Luca. This copy is signed and will definitely replace the one on his shelf at home. (Who placed a pre-order the day it was announced on Amazon? Not Timmy, most definitely not him.)

Each kitchen has a small area for personal items and Timmy quickly dry swallows one of his pain pills before hanging his jacket and bag up. He grabs his apron, puts the hairnet carefully over his curls, and takes in his fellow chefs. The main dish today is shepherd’s pie, a comfort food inspired by the upcoming St. Patrick’s Day. Timmy’s wrapped up in examining his ingredients when a hush comes over the room.

Timmy took a slow deep breath. In. Out. No more waiting. There was no way he could avoid it now.

Looking up, he meets the bluest eyes he’s ever seen and he can barely contain himself from moaning out loud. Armie is even more gorgeous in person and freaking huge. He towers over Timmy and he’s so much broader. Timmy knows he could be completely wrapped up in those long limbs. There’s the tiniest glimpse of chest hair at the open top button of his shirt, which is divided into three stripes, black, grey, and a soft blue. Timmy doesn’t dare look at the snug jeans he’s wearing. No number of orgasms could adequately prepare him to deal with the real thing.

Finally thinking beyond awe, Timmy realizes Armie’s staring at him, full pink lips just barely parted, brows lowered just enough into what Timmy recognizes easily as Armie’s thinking face. Timmy wants to attempt a tiny smile, a wave, something to break the moment, but he’s lost in Armie’s very presence. Dare he hope Armie is equally captivated by something in him?

Armie takes the slightest step towards him. His eyes are so, so blue, and despite the way Timmy knows Armie tends to hide his thoughts, they’re wide open for Timmy’s assessment. Curiosity, awe, and dare he say, hope?

“Chef Hammer, are we ready?” One of the producers calls and the moment is broken. Armie squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head a few times before putting on his easy, winning grin.

“Sorry everyone, got distracted by a resemblance to an old friend. Welcome to Monroe College in the Bronx, home of our little show today…” Timmy faded out as Armie ran through the usual sponsors and explained what they’d be making and why today. Armie hadn’t acknowledged him personally, but this isn’t the time to necessarily do so. Armie had admitted being focused on him though, and it’s more than Timmy can hope for that Armie feels something, anything towards him.

As Armie finishes his introduction, two other cameras are making their way around, doing brief interviews with each participant. His ankle is killing him but he can lean against the counter and hold his foot up for now.

“So, you’re a former Broadway actor turned non-profit solicitor? At just 24? This is a major center you say you work with.” The producer sounds skeptical but Timmy nods, puts on his polite smile like he does whenever someone he’s meeting starts laughing that they sent one of the middle schoolers.

“I assure you I’m perfectly capable in my job. I’m out from performing right now due to an injury I sustained at a rehearsal, but it’s allowed me to focus on something I love, which is giving kids who might not otherwise have the opportunity a chance to find something they love. Something they can be good at, feel confident in. Arts can also be an outlet for one’s feelings which are extremely important for people of their age.”

“Hmm.” The producer hums. “Why did you want to be on this show?” Timmy blushes lightly, hopes it doesn’t show, especially as Armie seems to linger at the workstation next to his.

“My sister got me a really great opportunity to meet one of my heroes. I watched Armie on _Hell’s Kitchen_ when I was home sick one day and how passionate he was about what he did gave me the courage to pursue my own dreams. Acting, however unrealistic that may seem, going to Columbia, getting this amazing opportunity to give back to my hometown.” He pauses. “And if this isn’t inappropriate, watching him, he was one of my early celebrity crushes and helped me find my way to realizing I was gay. I think my life would be very different if I’d never been exposed to his work.” Timmy knows he’s revealed too much, so he keeps quiet about his experience at _Paradiso_ all those years ago. The gifts and card that followed meant too much to him to bring it out into the open for someone looking for a soundbite.

“Very interesting.” The producer is smirking and Timmy wants to hide. “Also, do you have a nickname? Is it pronounced like Timothy? My boss went to France once and insisted it was teen-o-they.” Timmy wants to cringe. He hates failed attempts at his name, especially ones that sound mocking. Just call him Timothy or Timmy or Tim, it really doesn’t matter that much, but he really isn’t a fan of making fun of his given name. 

He’s about to open his mouth and explain when a rumbling voice, warm and deep like melted dark chocolate comes from the edge of his workspace.

“I believe it’s pronounced _Timothée_.” Armie says it perfectly. He’s smiling but he’s also giving the producers a look for the way they’ve been cornering Timmy. “Did I say that right?” Armie cuts a warm glance and soft smile at him. Timmy knows there’s a part of him that should be a panicking, blushing mess right now, but Armie’s whole presence is so comforting, it makes him feel secure in a way he’s never encountered before. He’s grinning before he knows it.

“You always have.” Timmy admits softly, and Armie’s eyes go wide. The older man looks like he wants to speak, wants to come closer. Timmy half hates what came out of his mouth, but the way Armie’s looking at him. Does Armie remember writing to him? No way, that had been so many years ago.

He has to break their moment though and manages to find his strength to turn back to the cameras.

“You can pronounce it Timothy, that’s fine.” Timmy gives his best professional smile again and the producers apparently have what they need because they wander to the next person. Armie’s still in his peripheral vision.

“I...I wrote to you, years ago? Please tell me you’re the same Timothée, I--”

“Yes.” Timmy smiles, watching the way Armie’s eyes light up. It’s the way he glows like an overexcited puppy, like he looked opening _Paradiso_ , or talking about his kids, in photographs from Italy. Timmy doesn’t know what to do with the moment and swallows hard. “I’m...I can’t talk about it right now.” If he starts gushing to Armie exactly how much it means to him that Armie remembers writing to him, he’ll be a mess and they’ll never get the show done. Plus, he really doesn’t want to bare his soul with all these strangers in the room.

“Afterwards, I’d love to talk to you, then.” Armie gives him a small, warm smile. His hand twitches, comes up like he wants to rest it against Timmy’s against the counter. They both hesitate, nervous what touch will do to this already impossibly precious moment.

In the end, Timmy finds the courage to turn his hand over, let’s Armie place his warm palm against his. Their fingers curl up, gently gripping the other one’s hand and Timmy never thought holding someone’s hand could be life changing but it is. He can’t feel the pain in his ankle, he isn’t thinking about nosey producers or people he’s never met before watching them. All his senses, his very existence narrows down to one thought, one feeling.

_Armie_.

“Guys, we’re rolling in 10...9…” A voice calls and they’re forced to pull apart as Armie takes his place in front of the camera, not just his TV grin but the genuinely happy smile he gets when he looks so very thrilled with something.

***

Halfway through filming, Timmy is ready to cry. He’s finally finished getting the consistency right on the filling, but he still has to mash the potatoes. His ankle is throbbing within his boot and he’s about ready to go look for one of the producers when he hears the soft clatter of a piece of furniture set behind him. It’s Armie himself, looking deeply worried and pointing lightly to the tall kitchen stool he just put down.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were hurt. Why didn’t you say anything?” Armie effortlessly sets the filling to a low simmer and drains the potatoes, grabbing the masher from the masher from the holder on the counter.

“I wrote it into my paperwork that I just couldn’t stand in one place long, but the people who took it downstairs said I should try without an accommodation first. A look of anger flashes across Armie’s face and Timmy flinches. Combined with the bunch and flex of the muscles in Armie’s exposed forearm, he’s not sure whether to be more scared or turned on. But when Armie glances over to him, his expression is soft.

“I’m not mad at you, not at all. I’m just mad they couldn’t provide a stool for you from the start. That’s ridiculous.” Armie shakes his head, dropping pinches of spice and a healthy whack of butter into the potatoes.

“I could do that…” Timmy begins to protest when he sees Armie pull the filling from the stove, pouring and spreading the mix throughout the greased pan. Armie waves him away between switching pots, spreading the mashed potatoes over the mixture.

“Don’t. Rest your ankle. The cabbage is coming along nicely and you still need to make your tart.” Armie puts the pan in the oven with ease, setting the timer before turning his attention to Timmy. “Here.”

Timmy has to hold in a yelp, his hands flying to Armie’s firm biceps as Armie picks up the stool with him still on it and sets it next to the island counter. Puts him within reach of the sink, slides his ingredients closer, washes his apples for him. When Timmy starts slicing, they make easy small talk, Timmy sharing more details of the non-profit he works for, Armie listening intently. How he’d always cook for his roommates in college and Armie smiled soft.

“I’m glad you could have that experience for me. It was straight from home hobby to fighting my way through kitchens with a fake ID.” Armie shook his head, reaching out and grabbing a thin apple slice from the pile. Timmy smacked the back of his hand lightly but grinned when Armie put it in his mouth, wiggling his eyebrows and making Timmy giggle helplessly.

***

Armie makes the rounds with the other participants but always seems to pass through Timmy’s station right when multiple things, especially heavy things, need doing at once. If he hadn’t been forced to stand for over an hour, it would be a lot more bearable and he would still be moving well now. His ankle is still just sore enough that having Armie’s help with the bigger things is a godsend.

They don’t have to worry about washing up, a handful of student volunteers make the rounds, gathering up their dishes and taking them away to the industrial sinks in the back.

At the end of the episode’s filming, they make their way to the central table just outside the kitchens, where Armie’s versions are sitting, ready to eat. There’s cider, water, tea, and because St. Patrick’s Day is coming, there’s even some Guinness, despite the set manager looking mildly displeased.

Armie saves a seat for him right next to him at the head of the table. A couple of the older women shoot him nasty looks for taking what they wanted to be their spot. When Timmy settles in, the whole table falls into easy conversation, and Timmy grins like a loon the whole time because Armie’s leg is pressed to his beneath the table.

People are packing up and saying goodbye when it comes time for apple tart. Most people just take a piece for the road, their own dishes packed up and ready to go to their families. Armie puts his on a nice china plate, sets it down in front of him with a question in his eyes.

“We still need to catch up.” Timmy confirms and Armie lights up. Timmy immediately wants to kiss him. And maybe spend the rest of his life making Armie smile like that.

Eventually, it’s just the two of them and a couple volunteers. Timmy surrenders the last of his pots, pans, and the plate the tart is on, insisting he’s fine to eat it on just a napkin.

The kitchens are cleaned up and shut down, but there’s still some lights on and they settle in together at what had been Timmy’s kitchen. Armie holds his hand loosely as Timmy stays perched on the stool. Armie’s tracing a gentle fingertip over the lines on Timmy’s palm and every time his touch lightly strokes across his kin, Timmy has to hold back a shiver.

“Y’know,” Timmy begins, popping the last bite of Armie’s tart in his mouth. “I think I actually like my dessert better. I’ll never be able to beat you on that Shepherd’s Pie though.” Armie raises an eyebrow, a light smirk coming over his face.

“Really?”

“Really.” Timmy confirms, sliding the tupperware to Armie.

“When the hell did you have time to make a _glaze_?” Timmy shrugs.

“All the ingredients were there, it was super easy.” Armie looks at him in something like awe and shakes his head laughing. He produces a plastic knife and cuts himself a small piece of Timmy’s tart. Timmy holds his breath as Armie brings a bite to his mouth, swallows hard as he places it on his tongue. Watching the way Armie’s lips and tongue take the pastry from his fingers should be illegal. The moan Armie lets out even more so.

“Tim, this is amazing.” Armie’s eyes fall shut and Timmy blushes, dragging his jacket across his lap. Ten years later and he’s still a victim of spontaneous boners courtesy of Armie Hammer. Though this one can’t be faulted as the man himself is here, making the most sinfully sexual noises just eating pastry. “What did you put in this?”

“A bit of ginger, just a little less cinnamon than your recipe calls for. Plus the glaze goes a long way.”

“Jesus.” Armie drops his head forward laughing quietly. “That sounds fucking pornographic when you say that.” Timmy flushes bright red, really does yelp this time when Armie gently lifts him off his stool to sit on the counter, standing between Timmy’s spread legs. “I’d let you glaze me any time.” Timmy bursts out laughing and they’re hugging, clinging.

“You’re ridiculous.” Timmy’s laughing so hard he starts crying and buries his face in Armie’s neck. The smell of the man is equally overwhelming and he almost can’t catch his breath.

“Tim, are you okay?” Armie’s voice is full of concern and Timmy nods, holding onto Armie tight, loving the way the larger man cradles him in his arms so gently.

“This is just so overwhelming. I’ve had a crush on you since I was thirteen and admired you for just as long. You’re this huge presence in my life, however indirectly, and now you’re here, not just talking to me, but holding me, flirting with me.”

“Is it too much? Fuck, I always get so handsy--” Armie tries to pull away but Timmy tugs him back in with both arms and his good leg.

“I like you handsy. But you’ve just changed my life so much, you made me realize I was gay, your bravery, your determination, your strength, it provided this road map for me to follow in finding the things I was passionate about. It’s not every day you can meet someone you’ve loved half your life and not only do they spend time with you but they like you too? It’s so surreal.” Timmy laughs lightly, humming happily when Armie hugs him tighter.

“You’ve loved the idea of me.” Armie says gently and Timmy shrugs.

“I didn’t like that persona of militant hardass meets irresponsible goofball TLC was trying to give you. I liked the man who spent a free afternoon every week helping everyday people realize dreams they may have never gotten to even touch otherwise. I liked the dad that wrote horrible dad jokes on his Instagram. But I really loved the man who wrote me a card for my graduation.” Timmy bites his lip hard, reaches into his pocket. It’s faded and worn with age and being folded so small so frequently. The paper is soft and fragile but as he pulls away from Armie to hand him the card. “Every audition, every exam, every time I was scared, that man was with me. You were with me.”

Armie’s hands tremble as they take hold of the card, opening it so carefully, so gently. He’s quiet for a long time and Timmy gives him time. He just dumped a lot on Armie, poured his heart out to a man he only just met today then told him he loved him. Armie must think he’s crazy, he’s about to apologize when Armie finally speaks.

“I thought I was so dumb picking this card. As soon as I sent it, it seemed so foolish and childish but there was something in that tiny little note you sent me that made me want to show you a side of me that I can’t share with just anyone. It only hit me later that I forgot to put my return address, but you never wrote back. Never came to _Paradiso_ again. I begged Nick to look for you every night I wasn’t there.” Armie’s voice is thick and Timmy gently pulls him closer, letting Armie bend forward, hide his face in his shoulder. “Because you changed my life.” All the air is knocked from Timmy’s lungs.

“What?”

“You changed my life. I got a couple requests a night from fans who wanted a selfie or an autograph and that was fine, I was glad people viewed me that way and it was an honor. But when Nick told me what you had said, when there was this beautiful, brilliant kid out there that was about to take over the world, looking up to, and thanking me of all people.” Armie shakes his head. “I broke. I wanted to see your face, wanted to thank you. Especially once I finally got the courage to stand up to my family, to Liz, to be honest with myself. When I sent you that card, I always felt like I sent a little piece of myself with it. And now here you are.”

Timmy carefully runs his hands over Armie’s hair, gently pulls his face from his shoulder. Armie’s eyes are wet, his emotions screaming out to Timmy, so many strong, conflicted feelings crashing against everything. Timmy knew how loud his mind could get when he felt like he was falling, and he’s both shocked and glad to see Armie do the same. Honored that Armie would show him that much of himself.

“Here I am. And here I’ll stay if you want me.”

“If I...fuck, Tim!” Armie surges into him, crashes their lips together in a desperate kiss. It’s everything Timmy’s ever dreamed of and better. He hadn’t dreamed of his walking boot, of being so bold, or showing Armie that tattered old card, but it was all so much better because it was real. That was Armie’s strong jaw beneath his fingers, Armie’s soft, full lips against his, Armie’s strong arms holding him tight, keeping him warm, safe, secure in a way he’s never felt before.

***

They’re eventually interrupted by a custodian who looks slightly less than pleased with them. They haven’t taken any clothes off, but they’ve spent the last god knows how long kissing, stroking each other’s hair, feeling the way the other breathed. Armie makes a warm, good natured apology to the custodian while Timmy gathers his things.

Armie tracks down one of the producers on a personal line and demands they come back to the site. To Timmy’s shock, it’s the same one who denied him the stool at check in. Timmy knows what they must look like, shirts rumpled, hair everywhere, lips wet, cheeks pink, but Armie doesn’t show an ounce of shame as he marches up to the car, gives the producer Pauline’s new address and hands over the shepherd’s pie and cabbage Timmy made.

“And I will know if you are anything less than perfectly polite.” Armie’s voice holds a cold anger in it. The producer noticeably shivers but Timmy, knowing that Armie was using that to look out for him, and didn’t seem to be turning towards Timmy any time soon, was hard in his pants and wasn’t sure he could hide it behind his bag.

When the producer drives off in a rush and Armie turns back to him, he’s immediately smirking.

“You’re not subtle.” Timmy groans.

“You’ve been giving me uncontrollable boners since I started high school. Come on.” Timmy whined and Armie laughed.

“Let’s get you home and take care of you then.” Timmy shivers and is all too eager to crawl into Armie’s passenger seat. Once he’s sure that Armie won’t fuss at him, he takes to gently tracing a finger up Armie’s inseam, bumping gently against the massive bulge in the front of his pants. Armie tries to remain stoic and focused on driving but on the third brush, when Timmy takes a chance and gently runs his fingers over Armie’s swollen cock through the tight denim, he grunts and squirms in his seat.

“Keep that up and I’m spanking you when we get there.” They’re in stopped traffic for a moment so Timmy immediately locks onto eye contact with him and completely unapologetically begins stroking Armie’s cock through his jeans.

***

“This is your last chance to say no.” Armie says as he parks the car. They’re both sweaty, flushed messes. Timmy had teased Armie most of the way home until Armie finally decided turnabout was completely fair play and undone Timmy’s jeans, sliding between the denim and his boxers to gently squeeze at his swollen cock. Tim had been dangerously close to coming in his pants.

“I can be a very...Dominant, even somewhat aggressive lover, and if you don’t want that, I think we, or at least, I may need to cool off before we try...this.” Armie waves his hand, looking almost afraid at Timmy’s answer. Timmy has his answer before Armie’s even done speaking. He leans close, presses a kiss to Armie’s ear, licks along the shell then pulls the lobe into his mouth.

“I’ve been a brat, you know it’s time to punish me, _Daddy_.”

“Jesus, _fuck_!” The car is off and Armie is immediately out of the car. Timmy’s door is yanked open and before he even knows it, he’s over Armie’s shoulder, the older man grabbing his ass roughly, growling. Timmy is painfully turned on, thankful for the pressure of Armie’s shoulder against his groin as Armie carries him to the elevator.

Timmy squeaks when they get on the elevator and an elderly woman joins them, approaching from the other side of the garage.

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard.” The little old woman smiles at Armie’s greeting and Timmy wants to die. Armie is still completely unapologetic in stroking Tim’s ass, occasionally grabbing the pert little cheeks or tapping them, a tease of the spanking Timmy hopes is coming his way.

“Good evening, Armand. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you with a special someone? This one must be perfect.” Timmy hides his face in his hands. Is it routine that Armie carries his sex partners home over his shoulder?

“I think I’m keeping this one.” Armie says and Timmy blushes despite himself. What exactly did Armie mean by that?

“Oh darling, don’t look so surprised, if I had a man that could do that to me, I’d be grinning all the way down Broad.” Timmy can’t help laughing and finally looks at the old woman smiling at him. “You have fun and be good tonight, boys.” She smiles lightly as she gets off on her floor, Armie bidding her a cheerful goodnight.

“Do all the little old ladies in your building see you bring home sex partners over your shoulder?” Armie laughs and Timmy squirms when it makes his groin bounce against Armie’s shoulder.

“Not really, but perks of being 6’5”, I can do whatever I want and get away with it.” Armie sounds like a child overjoyed at being naughty as they get off the elevator and Armie moves to unlock his door. As soon as it’s open, Armie squats down partially to lower Timmy through the doorway and with a head rush he isn’t expecting, he’s pinned to the couch, Armie’s weight, the bulk of his muscles and the dominance of his very presence holding him firmly to the upholstery. “You’re going to pay for teasing me, you little brat.” Armie growls and then pulls him in for a fierce kiss.

Timmy can barely breathe but it’s the most amazing experience of his life. Oh how he’s wanted this for so long, and now the first man to give him consistent fantasies is holding him down, kissing him deep, biting at his lips, sucking on his tongue, exploring Timmy’s teeth with his own.

Timmy’s light headed by the time they’re done kissing and Armie flips him easily, dragging him to slump over the back of his couch. Timmy’s panting, his dick throbbing in his jeans. He wishes he could push them down, wrap his fingers around his erection. It would be over so soon, so fast, he’s so turned on by everything that is just Armie.

Timmy can’t hold back a mix of a cry and a groan as his jeans are abruptly opened, dragged down. His cock is immediately drooling against the upholstery of the couch and he gives in to Armie’s adjustments of his position.

“Just like that.” Armie whispers when he’s got Timmy exactly how he wants him. His knees hold onto the edge of the couch, his ankle boot trapped in his jeans, his arms folded on the back of the couch, and his eyes open where his head hangs between his arms, watching his erection twitch and dribble, several inches from touching anything. A firm swat lands on his right buttcheek and he moans aloud, watching his cock bob, still not touching anything. “Good boy.”

“Fuck, Armie…”

_Smack!_

Armie’s palm against his left buttcheek leaves a stinging sensation that tingles when he takes his hand away.

“Naughty boy. Teasing me in the car…”

_Smack!_

“Rubbing your cock on my couch…”

_Smack!_

“Speaking...out...of...turn…”

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!_

Each time Armie’s hand hits his skin, pain and pleasure shoot through Timmy and he can’t help crying out with the last hit. His cock is pulsing between his legs, so heavy and desperate to come, balls drawn up and tight.

He squirms.

_Smack!_

“Oh God, Armie!”

_Smack, smack, smack!_

“Jesus...fuck…”

_Smack! Smack!_

His balls throb and he’s so very close to tipping over the edge.

“Armie!” Tim cries out, a plea for more and for mercy, all wrapped up in one.

_Smack!_

Come pulses from his cock and Timmy feels like he’s watching someone else come, even as the endorphins flood his body and waves of pleasure sing through him with every beat of his heart. He’s never come like this before in his life.

“Baby, baby, baby. So good for me. Tim, you’re fucking amazing.” Armie’s arms gather him up as his orgasm tapers off, pulling him into the older man’s arms. Armie’s kissing his face, stroking his hair and Timmy closes his eyes, the room still spinning from the force of his orgasm. “That’s it, baby. You’re so good. Fuck, how’d I get such a good boy?” Timmy whimpers. He’s never been called that in his life but when Armie does it, it’s different. He doesn’t know if it’s just the setting, the sudden passion of the sex, or if it’s just Armie. Probably all of the above.

“Armie…” He finally manages to pant out, his eyes opening, focusing on the flushed face of his beautiful blue eyed lover.

“There you are. Fuck, I can’t believe you came like that just from me spanking you.” Armie’s kissing his face, his head, hands gently cupping the sharp line of his jaw. “You’re incredible.” His voice is reverent and Timmy wants to bask in whatever this feeling is forever.

“Want you to fuck me. Right here, right now.” There’s no better time than now for Timmy. He can barely feel his body, all he knows is Armie is warm, safe, _want, want, want_. There’s this need inside him to feel as much of Armie as he possibly can.

“You sure baby?” Armie kisses him on the forehead and Timmy nods eagerly.

“Right here, the same way.” Timmy confirms and Armie brings his jaw up, draws him into the most loving kiss Timmy had ever experienced. This amazing man who had been his guide from afar for half his life, Timmy couldn’t let any opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Okay, up for me.” Armie gently rolls him, guides him out of his arms, drapes Timmy’s still floppy limbs over the couch, his wet dick hovering over the evidence of his last orgasm. “Lemme know if this hurts.”

Armie’s hands are careful and precise in removing the walking boot and his shoe, not disturbing his injury in the slightest before dragging his jeans and boxers down and off his feet.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Every goddamn inch of you.” Armie’s mouth is in the dimples of his back, pressing kisses down, across the still stinging skin of his ass, his strong hands stroking over his legs, squeezing and grounding him every time he trembles. 

There’s the snap-pop of a tube of lube being opened behind him then big fingers parting his cheeks, gently stroking over his hole, getting it good and wet, using one of the shivers of arousal that rock his body to slip the first one in.

It feels incredible. Timmy has fingered himself before, on several occasions, but it never felt like this. Armie’s so gentle but so firm at the same time, exploring, stroking, stretching, but never hurting. His next finger slips in with ease and when they begin working in little bumps over his prostate, he can’t help crying out.

“Fuck, yessss, Armie!” Timmy can’t help arching his back and he hears Armie let out a low groan behind him. The fingers stop exploring for a brief second and the sound of a zipper being opened, along with something like a sigh from Armie. Timmy had felt Armie’s cock in the car. Armie was a big man with an appropriately sized big cock, but Timmy had a suspicion that Armie was well hung even for his massive stature. He can’t imagine a dick like that being trapped in jeans for so long, so hard.

Timmy whines low, pushes back on Armie’s fingers, chasing his pleasure when they nudge his prostate.

Armie lets out a low chuckle behind him and withdraws his fingers. Timmy doesn’t have time to protest before three are back, stretching him wide as they spread and explore. He’s never stretched himself quite this much, nor has he ever had a dick in him, and in hindsight, maybe he should have gotten on one or two in college just so the first one entering him wouldn’t be so huge. But then it was _Armie_ , and that brought a whole level of trust and ease to the situation. Even if he got split in half, there was nothing more than Armie’s cock that he wanted in that moment. Armie’s fingers retreated again and Timmy heard him mutter a low “fuck.”

“No condoms.” Armie sounds so disappointed, Timmy can’t help but turn back to him with a little smile.

“You can always fuck me without, I promise I don’t have anything.” Timmy attempts. He does have a couple condoms in his bag but there’s something distinctly sexy about the idea of Armie coming inside him, marking him forever. Armie bites his lip.

“But what if I give you something?” Armie murmurs, leaning over him to kiss his shoulder.

“Do you get tested regularly?” Timmy nudged his head against Armie’s, smiling when the older man nuzzled into his cheek, kissed the side of his neck.

“Of course.”

“When was the last time you got tested?”

“Like three months ago.”

“How many people have you slept with since then?”

“...one.” Timmy’s head snaps up, surprised.

“You’ve only fucked once in the past three months?” How people aren’t lining up around the block just for the privilege of sucking Armie’s dick blows Timmy’s mind.

“The same person, twice. And it was fucking Nick and we used a condom both times.” Armie sounds frustrated at that and Timmy can’t help frowning.

“I’m sorry, are you and Nick…?” He doesn’t know the right word but apparently whatever he’s getting at is hysterical because Armie bursts out laughing. “What?” Timmy wants to shrink away but Armie pulls him back in.   
  


“Jesus, no. I am most definitely not in any kind of relationship with Nick. He’s my best friend and that’s it. Occasionally when we’re both in a dry spell, we’ll touch each other’s dicks.” Armie shrugs it off but then leans forward, kissing over Timmy’s neck. “No, you’re the first person I’ve brought home in a long time. I just need to know you mean it before I fuck you bare.” Timmy shivers, pushes his hips back till he can feel Armie’s cock rubbing against him.

“I definitely mean it. I want to feel everything. I want to feel you. All of you. Please.” It’s apparently good enough because when Timmy turns his head back again, Armie meets him in a deep kiss, his hands gently squeezing Tim’s hips.

“If you’re sure.” Timmy nods again and Armie takes the moment to pull their shirts off. When Timmy leans back over, he arches his back a little, delighting in the little intake of breath and muttered swears behind him. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Ah, but what a way to go.” Timmy hears his low snort before three fingers again invade his hole, stretching, spreading the lube so he’ll be wet and slick and ready to go. “C’mon, I’ve wanted to you to fuck me for as long as I’ve known what fucking is.”

“Fuck.” Armie bites down on his now bare shoulders and something huge, hot, and slick presses against his hole. “Ready…?” Timmy nods, and Armie must be listening to his breathing because he times the first push in with a long exhale. The head hurts a little as it pops inside and holy hell. It feels like someone jammed a soda bottle up his ass, his hole twitching and clenching around Armie’s cock, listening to the older man’s quiet little sighs and moans of pleasure. It’s obvious how hard Armie is trying to be a gentleman about this, but Timmy wants to feel him, all of him.

“C’mon Armie, I want it.” Timmy moans when Armie pushes forward a little more, fucking in with gradual thrusts that open him up in the most amazing ways. “Put that big dick in me. I know you want to. I’ve been teasing you with this tight little ass all day and now it’s all yours. Your hole to fuck and breed however you want.” Timmy notices the helpless thrust on the word “breed” and grins. “God, I just want to feel your cum in me. So fucking deep I’ll feel it for days.” 

Armie finally snaps and thrusts in all the way, knocking the air from his lungs. It’s like Armie’s in his chest he’s so big, so deep. It hurts, it’s never felt this way with a toy, but it also feels so fucking good. And that it’s Armie makes him shiver, especially when the older man starts to thrust, settling into a relentless pace, pounding into him harder, faster, twitching and squirming his hips against Timmy’s to hit different angles when he’s buried balls deep in him.

“Oh my God.” Timmy can’t contain his moan and gives in to the couch, clinging to the back of it in a desperate attempt to not get fucked through the furniture by Armie’s big dick. It’s huge, it's everywhere inside him and Timmy never knew there were so many places inside that felt so fucking good. Add in the intimacy of Armie’s big, full balls slapping against his taint, it’s everything he ever dreamed of and more. Armie thrusts in deep and stays there, his fingers finding his way around to Timmy’s tiny, almost concave belly. His fingers push, feel around, and when he finds what he’s looking for, he moans into Timmy’s ear.

“Fuck, baby, I can feel myself inside you, right here.” Timmy’s able to bring a trembling hand to his belly, and with the guidance of Armie’s hand, he feels it. The thick, round head of Armie’s cock. “That’s so fucking hot Tim, oh my God.” Armie’s back to thrusting, this time pulling back so he’s only about half in. It’s the perfect angle to start nailing Tim’s prostate and the first time the spongy hard head of Armie’s cock slams up and against his prostate, Timmy can’t contain his moan.

“Oh Armie, that feels...that feels…” He can’t find his words, but Armie seems to understand, continuing his shallow thrusts even as Timmy feels his balls drawing up, his hole twitching. “Oh, Armie, fuck, I’m coming!” Timmy tips over the edge with a loud cry, adding his seed to what he’s already spilled on the couch, feeling his body lock and spasm around Armie’s massive cock. It feels like his whole body is supposed to be milking Armie’s orgasm from him, Timmy feels every throb of Armie’s heart right through his dick.

“Fuck!” Armie makes a couple tiny thrusts but comes as well, hot ropes of come filling Timmy, a new heat spreading within him and drawing a few more weak pulses from the brunette’s cock. He made Armie Hammer come. And Armie had not only come, but done it without a condom, deep inside him. This day was every one of his sexual fantasies come true.

Timmy tries to control his body’s shaking but he’s been holding himself up for too long and manages to drag himself forward a little bit to ensure he doesn’t fall off the edge of the sofa. Armie’s cock slides out of him, making them both hiss and Timmy’s face go red as he feels the sticky slick mix of lube and semen make its way down his inner thighs. He probably looks ridiculous, trying to make his legs behave so he can get into a better position, but before he can make any major attempts, Armie just scoops him up into his arms.

Armie’s still panting from his orgasm but manages to carry Timmy through the penthouse to his large yet cozy bedroom. The bed is huge, reasonable for a man of Armie’s size and Timmy blushes lightly, realizing Armie is gently setting him on the side the man himself must sleep on based on the disorderly pillows and rumpled covers he shoves out of the way of Timmy’s legs. Timmy laughs lightly as the bed bounces when Armie flops down next to him.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t seem to...move properly.” Timmy attempts lamely, listening to Armie catching his breath next to him. When he glances to the blonde, sleepy blue eyes are already taking him in, a pleased little smile just wide enough to show his dimples tugging away at those beautiful lips.

“No, no. I should have moved us to the bedroom. Fucking you till you couldn’t walk was the plan from the moment you said Daddy.” Timmy groans and hides his face.

“I’m not usually into that, but in the moment, it felt...right?” Timmy opens his eyes to find Armie nodding at him easily.

“Same. But it also makes me feel like I can explore things with you and that makes me feel really safe and comfortable with you.” Armie cuddles into him, gathering Tim carefully to his chest. There’s still sticky mess in places that won’t be super comfortable later but Armie just feels so warm, so cozy, like an old sweater, or coming home when you’ve been away for too long. Timmy’s not sure how he can feel that with someone he only truly met today, but before he can ponder it much more, Armie’s letting out a satisfied hum and stroking his back.

“Go to sleep, love. Get some rest.” Armie’s smooth voice, husky with sleep as well, urges him peacefully into his dreams.

***

Timmy wakes up at 3:00AM to Armie sprawled across him, the lights of the city twinkling beyond the panoramic windows, no idea where his walking boot is, and his bladder screaming to be emptied.

“Um…” Timmy isn’t sure what the etiquette for waking your sex partner to go find your walking boot in the middle of the night is, but he knows it definitely includes not wetting Armie’s bed.

Timmy’s halfway squirmed out of Armie’s grasp, now desperate and holding his cock when the man finally wakes up, going from drowsy to alert immediately as if sensing Timmy’s distress.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just don’t know where my boot is and I really have to pee.” Armie’s up before Timmy can even process it fully.

“Hang on, love. Wait just a minute.” Armie’s arms move slow enough not to spook him, but still have a sense of urgency, respecting Timmy’s needs. He scoops Timmy up in his arms and carries him promptly to the attached bath. Timmy can’t help himself, as soon as Armie has him set gently on the toilet, he’s pissing his brains out with a relieved sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Poor baby.” Armie kneels next to him, gently pets his low tummy over the spot where the gradual ache of his full bladder is subsiding.

“Honestly? I passed out after you cuddled up with me and I woke up only when I was ready to explode.” Timmy shrugs lightly, embarrassment creeping in that Armie had to carry him to the bathroom and then heard him pee. “I’m really sorry about...this.” Timmy waves his hand at the situation and Armie chuckles, shakes his head.

“Humans produce urine, Tim. It happens, don’t stress about it. Especially if you’re in an unfamiliar place and can’t walk. Plus, um, maybe someday, if it’s uh...you know, never mind.” Armie’s bright pink and Timmy is immediately intrigued. Armie seems to want to more on though, and supports him through standing and Timmy is able to balance at the sink and wash his hands. Armie wordlessly passes him a toothbrush and when Timmy’s done brushing, he goes to hand it back. Armie smiles, drops it in the little caddy right next to his own. Timmy’s heart does a funny little flip-flop at that.

Armie carries him back to bed, the two of them now trading minty kisses as Armie lowers him to the bed and crawls over the top of him.

The mint leaves the tiniest cool tingle against his skin and Armie breathes deep against the skin of his neck.

“You smell amazing, I hope you know that. And I can smell you on me, like you’re mine.” The softest kiss behind his ear and Timmy leans his head towards Armie’s, threading his fingers through the taller man’s soft golden blonde-brown hair.

“I am yours, for as long as you’ll have me.” Timmy whispers into his scalp, feels Armie’s grip tighten on him.

“You can’t mean that.” Armie suddenly sounds small, afraid and Timmy wants to chase it away.

“Yes, I do. I want the rest of my life to be just like this.” Armie shivers when Timmy scratches his fingers over the nape of his neck. “Want to feel you in my arms. It’s all I’ve dreamed about for so long, and then to meet you and get to know you, and find out you’re even more beautiful and amazing in the flesh. I’d be a fool not to want you.”

Armie’s silent for a long minute and with each passing second, Timmy becomes worried he’s said the wrong thing. Just when he’s about to take it back, say it was too much, Armie squeezes his arms and turns his face into Timmy’s hair, sighing deep.

“I need you inside me, right now. You can’t be real.” Armie’s voice shakes and Timmy wants to chase it away. He presses kisses all along the side of Armie’s face, finally coaxing his head up and bringing their lips together, so much gentler than earlier, all the longing from their discussion now able to flow between them now that their frantic need to get off had been satisfied earlier. Timmy wants. More than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

“How do you want to do this?” Timmy whispers against his lips. He’s not sure how well he could balance himself with his injured ankle. Armie brushes the tips of their noses together before he answers.

“Let me ride you?” Armie whispers, sounding surprisingly shy. Timmy nods immediately.

“Uh, yes please!” Armie laughs against his neck and they wrap their arms around each other again. They trade another round of kisses before Armie reaches for the bedside drawer, fishing around for lube. He holds up a condom, raising an eyebrow to Timmy. Timmy immediately shakes his head.

“No, I want to feel everything with you.” Timmy hopes Armie feels the weight of his words. Judging by the way Armie’s body quakes in his arms, he does.

“Here, lemme…” Armie squirms, up and away, turns and presents his ass to Timmy. “I know it’s not the prettiest view, but if you’re willing to finger me a little.

“Are you kidding? The first time I saw your ass in tight suit pants, I came on one of my mother’s stupid decorative towels just so I didn’t come on the wall.” Armie laughs quietly and Timmy can feel the tension drain out of him. Armie has settled so his ass hovers over Timmy’s chest, two luscious, plump cheeks covered in a light dusting of soft blonde hair. And between the two cheeks, Armie’s hole, already clenching and twitching like it’s just waiting for Timmy to touch it.

“But there’s hair…” Armie protests and Timmy snorts.

“I like your butt, okay? And whoever told you that the hair was a bad thing can fuck off. I love your fuzzy blonde butt.” Armie laughed aloud this time and rested his head on Tim’s thigh, relaxing under Timmy’s hands. “There we go. You’re ridiculously sexy from absolutely every angle, Armie.” His fingers fumble for the lube and he’s just about to open it and slick his fingers when an idea pops into his head.

Dragging another pillow behind his head for more support, he gently pulls on Armie’s hips, brings him back just a little more.

“This is my first time with this, so bear with me.” Timmy warns and then he sticks his tongue out, drags it up Armie’s crack and over his hole.

“Oh my God.” Timmy can visibly see the shudder that rocks his whole body and he’s immediately pleased with himself. Testing out another few licks, finding the things that make Armie squirm more. When he finally punches his tongue through the pucker, Armie lets out a strangled sound and almost sits on his face. Definitely need to do that more next time.

For now, he settles into a pattern of licks Armie seems to like, dipping his tongue against and teasing Armie’s hole like he’s going to slip inside but not yet.

“Timmy, please!” Armie moans above him and Timmy realizes his chest is now sticky just in front of Armie’s hips and it makes the brunette let out his own little noise of pleasure, realizing Armie had been so turned on, he was leaking on Timmy.

“That’s so hot.” Timmy gives Armie’s hole a gentle parting kiss and then reaches for the lube, spreading some over two fingers. His hands are much smaller than Armie’s and if Armie ever fingers himself, two of Timmy’s should slip in near immediately. His guess is correct and he immediately goes searching, gently stretching and scissoring his fingers just like Armie had done to him earlier. If he’s at just the right angle when he spreads his fingers, he can get a tiny peek of how pink Armie is inside and it’s a level of intimacy he doesn’t quite know what to do with, so he refocuses his search for Armie’s--

“Oh _FUCK_. Timmy!” Found it. Timmy removes his fingers with a smirk, coating them in more lube, sliding them back in, this time pumping the three out, grazing Armie’s prostate on each pass. Armie’s gasping and muttering low expletives, his cock continuing to leak profuse amounts of pre-cum against Timmy’s skin. His goal right now though is to make sure Armie’s ready for his dick. He’s nowhere near as big as Armie but he imagines regardless of the size of the penis, adequate lube was essential.

“Turn around.” Timmy whispers. The idea of watching Armie ride him reverse cowgirl is hot, thinking of those firm, full cheeks bouncing on his cock, but he wants another view more. Needs to see Armie’s face through their fucking, or is this perhaps love making? It’s so much more tender than earlier and when Armie turns around, pupils blown with desire, cheeks and chest flushed all down his belly to and right up to his, “Wow.”

Armie blushes even darker pink, tries to hide his cock, but Timmy bats his hands away. How did all of that fit in him earlier? It’s bigger than a soda bottle and with the full shape of its head, Timmy suddenly understands why he couldn’t quite walk earlier.

“If you don’t want to look at it--”

“Jesus, no, Armie! Your dick is one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life. If I looked like you do naked, I’d never wear clothes again.” Timmy licks his lips and Armie lets out a soft laugh, settling in a squat over Timmy’s groin. Timmy quickly slicks his dick in the lube then applies a fresh glob to Armie’s hole before holding his cock steady. “Go ahead.” Timmy places a hand on Armie’s hip, reassurance as Armie lowers himself onto Timmy’s dick.

Timmy moans as soon as the head of his cock is sucked into Armie. He’s slick and tight and unbelievably hot, muscles fluttering around Timmy’s cock as Armie works the rest of the way onto his erection. He has to take his focus elsewhere for a moment, counting the little tiles that decorate the edges of a mirror on the wall.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Armie taps his cheek lightly and Timmy smiles, meeting Armie’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Just trying not to embarrass myself.” Armie laughs softly and the way he clenches on Timmy’s dick when he does so draws another low groan out of the brunette. He gently places his hands on Armie’s hips. “I don’t want to get this wrong…” Timmy trails off and Armie shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I meant it when I said I wanted to ride you. Just lie back and enjoy.” With instructions like that, Timmy’s not sure he can do anything else. Armie holds still for another few seconds then rocks back and forth subtly, feeling Timmy’s cock inside him before he raises up with those strong, thick thighs and begins slowly, torturously fucking himself on Timmy’s erection. It’s insanely hot to watch every time Timmy’s cock disappears into Armie’s slick tight hole, but the sounds are even more obscene. The slick slide and slap of their lubed up skin against each other’s the rustling of the sheets as Armie finds a steady rhythm, the way they’re both panting, moaning low. 

Armie seems to mean it when he says for Timmy to just enjoy because he’s clearly having a good time just bouncing on Timmy’s cock, whimpering when it grazes his prostate or Timmy manages a small thrust to meet his efforts. What really gets Timmy’s attention is his full balls and the beautiful cock bouncing right in his line of sight.

Armie makes the most beautiful, broken gasping sound when Timmy wraps a lube-slick hand around his erection, jerking it just so, timing it so every time Armie slides down his cock, he gives the dick in his hand a long stroke, twisting his wrist at the head like he does for himself.

“Oh Tim, you’re amazing, so good, baby, baby, baby…” Armie’s panting more heavily and Timmy can feel the way Armie’s cock is getting even harder, the way he can feel Armie’s pulse in his hand. He has no idea how he’s managed to hold on with the scene in front of him but the second Armie clenches down around him with a long groan, Timmy loses it, filling Armie with his come as Armie’s cock pulses in his hand, painting his chest with thick ropes of Armie’s come.

Again they don’t bother to clean up, curling up in each other's arms, a sticky, tangled mass of limbs as they fall back asleep.

***

The sunlight wakes them hours later and Timmy yawns, stretches, and feels Armie do the same as they roll around, working the sleep from their bodies.

“My shower has a built in bench.” Armie explains, greeting him with a kiss despite their morning breath. Timmy smiles and curls into Armie’s hold when Armie carries him to the bathroom this time. Initially he expected Armie to set him up with the shower and come collect him after a predetermined amount of time. But Armie just follows him in, and they take turns washing each other, each stroking the other’s cock to a lazy yet satisfying morning orgasm.

Armie dries him off gently and then gives him some of his own clothes to dress in. He feels like he’s swimming in the t-shirt and rolled up sweatpants, but he’s also never felt quite so happy. Timmy demands Armie fetch his boot so he has free movement around the space. He really does like it when Armie scoops him up and carries him like he weighs nothing at all, but he also knows his own tendencies to pace and explore. He needs to be able to move on his terms with no rhyme or reason.

In the kitchen, Armie sets him on a stool by the counter and begins washing fresh fruit, passing pieces to Timmy to slice then proceeds to the stove. They’re alone in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Timmy faintly hears the door latch open.

“You two better have clothes on! And--oh my God. Really? Hops, Ford, straight to your bedrooms. You need to put your bags away before you see Daddy.” A familiar voice instructs, followed by two children’s fussing. “Now, or Dad won’t make pancakes for breakfast.” Grumbles and the clomping of feet upstairs to the loft.

Nick appears around the corner from the front room where Armie and Timmy fucked yesterday. His expression is part fondness, part resignation.

“I can deal with gathering the laundry but you did not come on that couch.” Timmy flushes red and folds his arms, hides.

“C’mon, Niki, the covers zip off.”

“Then please take care of it before the kids come downstairs, hm?” Timmy raises his eyes up to watch Armie snort.

“I’ll get them in a minute. Nick, I don’t know if you remember Timmy, but Tim, this is Nick Delli Santi, childhood friend turned overcompensated nanny.” Timmy can’t contain a snort, covering his mouth.

“Fuck you, Hammer.” Nick deadpans before turning his gaze to Timmy, his smile easy, eyes warm. “It took you two long enough.” Timmy blushes lightly as Nick leans against the counter, pops a grape into his mouth.

“I’m kind of surprised you remember me.” Timmy confesses and Nick scoffs.

“Armie never shut up about you. And when he finally made me describe what you looked like, he went even more gaga. And then you had a glow up and got even more gorgeous, and now you’re in Armie’s apartment, hopefully to stay.” Timmy blushes. “It’s been an adventure watching him struggle with his sexuality. But your note seemed to do more against that closet door than I’d managed in fifteen years of knowing the guy. So, thank you. For freeing my best friend, and making him happy.” Nick’s eyes are sincere and Timmy smiles, finally able to look him in the face.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me all those years ago. Why didn’t you just shoo me away?” Nick shrugged lightly.

“Honestly, I’m still not entirely sure. I think some of it was how sincere you were despite the fact that you were scared shitless just to be in Armie’s restaurant. But most of it was just a good feeling. Luca says to follow those.” Nick smiles and Timmy hums happily, watching Armie stomp by with two stained sofa cushions covers.

“I’m sorry about--” Nick waves his hand.

“Don’t, if the kids weren’t here, I’d tease him then ignore it, but…”

“You like playing parent.” Armie chimes in and Nick rolls his eyes.

“That I do, considering how much your kids love me. Plus I could never handle the responsibilities of actually having kids. I like liquor and sexcations in Europe too much.” Timmy can’t contain his laughter as Armie rolls his eyes.

“Do you see what I have to put up with? By the way, Delli Santi, there’s still underwear in there. Your words, you’d do the laundry.” Armie turns back to the stove and Nick sighs heavily.

“Not your maid.” Nick calls over his shoulder as he goes to the living room.

“Sorry about--” Armie attempts but Timmy immediately shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t. He’s technically the reason we met.”

“Maybe, but…” Armie blushes lightly as Timmy curls into his side. “I feel like we would have always found each other some way.” Timmy immediately grins and leans up, pressing his lips to Armie’s in a long, tender kiss.

“Me too.”


	2. Outtakes Part One - Timmy and Armie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie makes a realization about the previous night, and their PBS episode airs a few weeks later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two quick scenes that were supposed to be in the original story but just didn’t quite slide into the flow of what ended up being the final result.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Harper is beautiful and brilliant like her dad, but with her mother’s fearless edge. Ford has Armie’s gentle heart. Timmy immediately loves both of them, and when he takes genuine interest in what they have to say, what they like to do, they’re just as wrapped up in Timmy as Timmy is in them.

He catches Armie out of the corner of his eye while they’re all piled together watching Frozen II and Armie looks so awed, so mystified.

“What?” Timmy whispered, reaching a hand out to thread his fingers with Armie’s.

“You just fit. Even with them, and I...is this even real?” Armie can barely get the words out and Timmy squeezes his hand hard.

“The realest thing I’ve ever felt.”

***

Nick puts the kids down for a nap, reminding Armie that he has plans this evening so “you have to watch your own damn kids.” Armie attempts to swat at Nick’s ass as he passes, but Nick expertly dodges the movement. Timmy’s giggling, watching them interact. When he’s in Armie’s warm, all-encompassing embrace, it seems ridiculous that he was ever jealous of Nick. Yes, he and Armie may have had sex a few times, but more than anything, they were lifelong friends, brothers. Timmy’s grateful for all the days Nick was there with Armie before Timmy was there.

Shaking his head lightly, he still can’t believe that was just yesterday. This time yesterday, he was just laying eyes on his childhood crush for the first time, unsure of what their interaction would bring, and now here he is with the man he hopes to spend forever with, who’s treated him like a God the past twenty-four hours and doesn’t show any intent of stopping soon.

“What?” Armie’s voice rumbles and Timmy shivers, curling into him, nuzzling his neck.

“It just all seems so fast. But not in a bad way. Just, it’s...kind of wow. I still don’t know if I have the words for it.” Timmy feels dumb stumbling over his sentences, but Armie’s still smiling at him so kindly, Timmy knows he understands. They rest in each other’s arms, listening to the far off hum of the kids white noise machine in the upstairs hall and the sounds of Nick tinkering around in the kitchen and laundry room.

Armie speaks after several minutes. There’s the tiniest nervous edge to his voice and Timmy holds his hand as he speaks.

“Is this faster than you would usually sleep with someone? Did I rush it?” More worry creeps into his voice and Timmy flushes bright red. He was hoping to avoid this topic for a little while, but he might as well confess now.

“Well, I don’t really have a benchmark for…” Timmy trails off, trying to find the right words. Armie’s voice is light, encouraging.

“Hook ups? Just to let you know, I’m not thinking of you as just a hook-up in any way, and I understand it’s probably crazy fast for this kind of talk, but I really want you with me Timmy, for as long as you’ll put up with me. Forever, if you believe in that. I woke up feeling like the luckiest man in the world.” Timmy smiles, nuzzles Armie’s chest.

“I felt the same way. Never been happier.” Timmy knows he can drop the subject here, but he feels like after Armie had bared his soul so easily, Timmy should at least tell him the full truth of his sexual history. “But, um. Yesterday, when we had sex. I don’t really have much of a benchmark in relationships either.”

“Okay.” Armie says, sounding mildly confused but just seconds later, his whole body stiffens and Timmy knows Armie finally put together what he meant. “Oh _shit_.”

“Armie.” Timmy exclaims when Armie withdraws an arm to cover his face in shame. “Armie, it’s okay, I _wanted_ it to be you, I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted _everything_ yesterday.”

“But I took your fucking virginity!” Armie shouts, looking horrified.

“Did not need to know that!” Nick calls from the kitchen.

“It’s okay, Armie. It’s fine, it was perfect. I didn’t want to put too much weight into it. Just having it be you meant everything.” But Armie had put both hands over his face with a low groan.

“The first time I made you come, it was spanking your ass!” Armie sounds scandalized and as much as Timmy hates feeling Armie freaking out, it’s mildly amusing.

“ _Really_ did not need to know that one.” Nick makes a face as he passes through with a laundry basket, pausing to fish something out of his pocket. “Tim, this was in the pocket of your jeans, I rescued it before it made its way into the washer.” It’s the old card, folded up small, worn with age and near constant handling. Timmy immediately snatches it. He realizes exactly how rude that was but Nick just smiles at him, ruffles his hair and moves on his way, taking the laundry basket upstairs.

Armie has finally lifted his head from his hands and still looks mortified that he was so rough on Timmy for his first time. Timmy takes the opportunity to kiss him.

“I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. Last night was perfect. Every bit of it. And if you want a bit of a “do-over” at some point, there will be plenty of nights for slow, super cliched romantic sex.” Armie finally smiles, tucks Timmy’s head against his shoulder to lean his cheek against Timmy’s.

“Sounds like a plan.

***

When Timmy’s episode airs on PBS, he watches it, curled into Armie’s chest.

“Were we that obvious?” Despite all the footage and profiles of Timmy’s co-participants, it’s obvious Armie’s attention is 100% on Timmy, who looks at Armie like he hung the moon and stars. Obviously, that’s how he really feels about Armie, but he didn’t think it was all over their faces that early.

“I didn’t think so but it was hard to keep it hidden when they interviewed me a couple days later.” Spaced throughout the episode were small cutaways to Armie explaining a situation or discussing how a particular participant changed his life.

Towards the end, when they’re sitting next to each other at the table, laughing and talking, eyes full of deep affection for the other, the camera even catching their legs pressed together beneath the table, Armie’s voice comes over the chatter of the table.

“I wrote Timmy a card, ages ago, when he came by my restaurant as a fan and I wasn’t there that night. And something just told me, he’s something special, and I always hoped I would get a chance to meet him, so today has been the most amazing gift for me.” On-screen Armie purses his lips and blinks hard. Timmy can barely see the shine of tears in on-screen Armie’s eyes because he’s too busy blinking away his own as he rolls into Armie, kissing him desperately.

After two very thoroughly satisfying rounds of lovemaking, completed with a selfie of a very sated Timmy resting his head under Armie’s jaw as Armie kisses his head, only visible from the shoulders up but it’s obvious they’re all wrapped up in each other. Timmy falls asleep to the soft taps of Armie’s thumb on his phone screen.

It’s late when he crawls out of bed. Timmy can smell dinner cooking downstairs and pads his way to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. When he’s done and found pants that fit in the clothes scattered throughout the room, he sees the soft glow of his phone screen, lit up with a notification of a new Instagram post from Armie. Another notification that Armie had tagged him in a post.

Opening his phone, his heart melts. Two photos, one of their selfie earlier, contentment and love radiating through the screen, the other a photograph of the wall in their kitchen, gentle evening light focused on the shadowbox on the wall, displaying the battered card that connected them for so long.

The caption is one simple hashtag.

_#LoveOfMyLife_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s where our boys’ story ends, happily ever after. The next chapter contains a Pauline/surprise! scene, so if you’re not into heterosexual sex, look away.


	3. Outtakes Part Two: And a treat for Pauline!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pauline spends the evening with her new lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know you’re here for the Charmie smut but I love Pauline and she deserves a little something good after being such a helpful big sister.
> 
> Full Disclosure: I do not speak either of the languages spoken in this chapter, so blame Google Translate.

Late on a beautiful spring evening, Pauline took in the view from her gorgeous new condo to fit her new life as she transitioned from actress to successful screenwriter. She was happily settled into bed, naked except for a well-worn t-shirt, a little big for her petite frame but tight across her full chest.

Her phone was near constantly going off, an endless stream of thanks from Timmy. Text after text, thought after thought. Every overexcited thought that popped into her brother’s head. She couldn’t blame him though, and she smiled, thankful that her golden-hearted baby bro had found his happily ever after, especially in the man he’s crushed on all his life.

The bedroom door clicks open and Pauline quickly tosses her phone to the night stand.

“ _Bonjour jolie demoiselle_.”

“ _Ciao bell’uomo, vieni qui_.” Pauline returns, unable to fight a wide grin as the man who just stepped into her room strips away his shirt, his jeans, crawling into her bed in nothing but some very flattering designer boxer briefs.

“Very close, I think your pronunciation is coming along nicely.” He murmurs, Pauline shivering as the gorgeous man next to her slips the covers down, begins to press their heated skin together. He leans in nibble lightly at her earlobe then makes his down her neck, his scruff dragging against her skin.

“ _Eh bien, nous devrons simplement nous en tenir au français._ ” She keeps her voice steady even as strong, elegant fingers slip between her legs, teasing her labia in a gentle series of strokes, just barely slipping in towards her wet folds that simply ached for him. 

“ _Ragazza sfacciata_.” He growls into her skin and Pauline sighs. She can feel how hard he is pressing into her hip and his fingers have finally granted her some mercy, slipping into her wet folds and teasing her clit just enough to make her want to beg for more.

Her phone buzzes several more times on the nightstand and she groans, reaching out and quickly powering it off.

“Please tell me I’m not still saved as ‘Hot Italian Realtor.’” His hands have slid up her torso and she laughs as he guides the shirt over her head. “Fuck.” His mouth immediately goes to her right nipple, sucking it into his mouth, nibbling at it as it gets harder, bringing skilled fingers up to roll her left nipple. It’s insanely hot that her nipple is wet with her own juices and Pauline can’t wait for the extra teasing she’ll get on that side when her lover moves his attention to that side. “What were all the texts?”

“Just confirmation of mission accomplished.” Pauline rolls her head back as his mouth lets go of her right breast, giving it one last rough lick before moving to the left, moaning against her skin. Between her legs, her core is aching and she desperately needs his cock in her. She isn’t ready to beg though. Not yet. She’s too proud.

“Believe me, I’ve already heard way too much about that.” Pauline laughs aloud at his words. Her her left breast is released, his mouth making its way down across her belly, kissing her skin just below her belly button. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I should be saved as more than an accurate description. I do have a name beyond my day job.”

“Oh, I know you do. But you are ridiculously hot, you’re Italian, and you hooked me up with this amazing place before we ever fucked.”

“We fucked an hour after we signed the paperwork. The carpet was christened quite quickly.” Pauline is giggling again even as his fingers slide between her legs, stroke over the wet mouth of her pussy before sliding in, crooking up against her g-spot and making her moan, hips seeking more of the sensation. Pauline feels him shift, kneeling up and settling between her legs and removing his fingers, replacing them with the wet head of his cock, stroking through her folds, slow, steady, teasing.

“ _Nom de Dieu! S’il te plait baise moi_!” He laughs low but gives her a taste of what she needs, teasing her with the head of his cock in tiny thrusts.

“ _Je vais te baiser jusqu'à ce que tout ce que tu puisses faire c'est crier mon nom_.” He tells her, voice thick with desire, and then all the air is knocked from her lungs in the most delicious rush, his thick cock filling her perfectly and Pauline can’t help but make good on his promise.

“ _Nick_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides in self-indulgent bisexual shame for writing this*

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me hiding out on tumblr: findmecallingyou!


End file.
